Dib's Worst Nightmare
by HeCallsMeHisChild
Summary: Has Dib fallen into the worst possible situation? Is he really trapped on the Massive, with Red and Purple claiming to be his parents? It SEEMS like a ZADR RAPR story... but is it?
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** Please please PLEASE, before you shoot me, read all the way to the end. It will make sense, I swear!!!

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All was quiet on board the Massive. Drones scuttled about the halls, bringing trays of food and drink to Council Members or the Tallests, who relaxed in their lounge chairs. Tallest Red was checking and re-checking his datapad, looking for the notes he'd written a few minutes before. Purple was staring at the door with a dreamy expression.

"Is he really coming, Red? Are they really bringing him back?"

Red glanced up, and patted Purple's claw gently. "Don't worry, Pur'. They assured me it was him. He'll be here any minute."

An angry shout disrupted the quiet of the ship, followed by scuffles and cursing. Two armed Irken soldiers burst into the room, dragging in a struggling third party. Wrapped in robotic PAK arms, a young human screamed and kicked, chocolate-colored eyes darting everywhere behind huge glasses.

Purple rose to his feet, eyes misting over and a hand reaching out in longing, but Red stopped him with a flick of the claw. "Patience Purple, we have to explain. It'll be a shock at first, you know."

With that, Red stood as well, and dismissed the drones. They unbound the boy and darted from the room, not wanting to be near the hyuman a second longer than they had to. Red hovered in front of the child. It backed away, eyes wide and filled with fear—but also defiance. Red's chest swelled with pride.

"Dib. It's been a long time."

Dib scooted further back, his chest heaving. Red moved forward.

"Let's see, the last time you spoke to us was when Zim was away on business, and you stole his monitor. Your dance with that SIR unit was… amusing. However, now there is a very important matter you must know. It requires your permanent stay."

"Wh-what? What are you talking about? I can't stay here, I belong on Earth!"

Red opened his mouth to speak, but Purple shoved him aside and wrapped stick thin arms around Dib. "No, you're never leaving my sight again, never!" Long, spindly claws ran through his hair as the Irken kissed his head repeatedly. "My son… I'll never let you leave again."

Squirming, Dib slipped from Purple's grasp and darted to the far wall, panting. "You-you've gone insane… gotten those brain-worm-thingies Zim talks about."

Red frowned disapprovingly. "Purple's not insane, Dib. I am your father. And Purple is, what you Earthlings would call, your Mother."

Dib clutched his stomach and howled with laughter. Sliding down the wall, he wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to control his mirth. "That's… that's just dumb."

Purple's lip trembled and his antennae drooped. Red rested a tender claw on Purple's head, and glared sternly at Dib. "We're not lying, son. You were kidnapped several years ago by an Earth scientist. How he got past our security, I'll never know. But we would always receive holovids and messages showing the awful experiments he performed on you. With each communication, you looked more and more…" He turned his head away, and Purple finished his sentence. "Hyuman. Less Irken."

Red's lips curled in a snarl. "If I ever lay eyes on that sorry excuse for a professor, Membrane, I'll shred him with my bare claws."

Dib squeaked, "You can't do that, he's my Dad! My real Dad, not you!"

Purple pleaded, "Dib, your DNA matches ours, I promise! I mean, the experiments screwed it up a lot, but there should be some traces of the original left!"

Dib grinned. The situation was just too comical. He wiped away a mirthful tear and asked, "If I prove I'm not your son, will you let me go?"

Purple looked at Red anxiously, but Red nodded solemnly. "Of course." He snapped his claws. "Drones, bring a portable lab for Dib." ………………………………………………………………………………………………

Exhausted, Dib raked his fingers through his limp scythe. He'd spend hours with every possible device in the portable lab, testing his skin, blood, hair, saliva, urine, and fecal samples. In every single one, there were undeniable traces of Irken DNA. He banged his head on the marble-top counter, clenching his eyes. How could this happen?

He opened his eyes and spotted Purple hovering nearby, a wistful look on his face. He groaned inwardly, fighting back the urge to vomit. He didn't even want to _think_ about how two males could have conceived him. Assuming Purple was male…

Defeated, he raised his head and mumbled blearily, "I hate my life."

He was promptly tackled by Purple in a rib-crushing hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd find the truth, oh Dibling, I've waited so long, my smeet!"

Red squatted, getting on eye-level with the rather disturbed boy. "And there's more. You have a few other family members to meet. You already know one. We're still trying to pull Gaz out of Professor Membrane's clutches, but the other one—well, you'd never guess."

Dib looked up, looking ill. "There's no possible surprise you could spring on me that could shock me more than I already have been."

A thin smile spread over Red's face. "In that case, meet your little brother. Invader Zim."

Zim strode into the room with his usual, pompous air, and put on a manic grin. "I knew you were too smart to be hyuman. I knew all along!"

GIR popped up from behind Zim. "No ya didn't."

"SILENCE! I am a GENIUS!"

Dib screamed in horror. The room spun around him, colors and shapes losing definition, before he slipped into darkness.

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**Note:** It will make sense! Just bear with me, one or two more chapters, and it will make sense! Oh, and thank you P.A.W.07  
for your constructive criticism. I will try to be more descriptive in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

Something cool dripped down his forehead. A gentle hand was smoothing back his hair—it felt so good. The cool liquid trickled over his forehead, and a rivulet wound its way over his brow and into his eye. He squinted, lifting his hand to wipe it away. As he removed his hand, he froze. Peering anxiously down at him was Purple's face, and his head was cradled in the Tallest's lap.

With a yelp, he rolled away and sprang to his feet. A mournful look crossed Purple's face briefly, but it vanished in a wide smile. "Dibbeh! You're awake. Just in time for lunch. Come on, I'll get Zim and you two can talk over curly fries."

Grimacing at the nickname, Dib reluctantly trailed the enthusiastic creature out into the hall. The walls were a garish shade of red, accented by glossy purple flooring. Squat, ugly Irkens rushed up and down the halls, disappearing through any one of the hundreds of open doorways which lined the walls. Dib wondered how they knew which room they needed to be in.

He was pulled from his observation as Purple dragged him into what appeared to be a lavish dining area. Various snacks and sweets lay heaped on a buffet-style table, and three tables stood around it, evenly spaced, with two chairs at each. Guided to the furthest table, he sat and scooted his chair in. He was surprised to see Purple drift over to the second table and seat himself. Dib shrugged off the odd sense of disappointment and relief, glancing over at the buffet. He didn't recognize half the things piled on it, but his stomach demanded to be filled.

Just as he pushed his chair back and prepared to brave the Irken cuisine, Red strode into the room, Zim in tow. He glanced at Dib and grinned, then gave Zim a small shove forward. Humming a tune that sounded disturbingly close to, "Here comes the bride," he sauntered over to the table where Purple sat, fiddling with his claws and blushing.

Having fully lost his appetite, Dib turned to face Zim, who sat squarely across from him, beaming with excitement. "I knew there was more to my mission than they were telling me! I just knew it! I found my hatch-mate, this is wonderful."

Dib's brows drew together. "Hatch-mate?"

"Don't play stupid, Dib, the Earth-term is 'brother'. No wonder you could see through my brilliant disguise, you were Irken too! You just didn't know it."

Dib nodded, swallowing hard. "Right."

Ignoring him, Zim continued on. "And guess what? Tomorrow afternoon we shall celebrate the reunion with a ritual forevermate ceremony!"

At this, Dib felt a twinge of alarm, but forced himself to be calm. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come now, you can't be that stupid. It's Irken tradition! Royal Irkens always mate with their siblings. Look at our parents, they were hatch-mates."

Horrified, Dib turned his gaze on the Tallests. Purple sat in Red's lap and was kissing him hard. Red's arms clasped Purple close and toyed with his antenna. A sudden image of the same thing happening between him and Zim flashed through his mind, and a scream of pure terror erupted from him. He seized the edge of the table and yanked upward, upending it on Zim. He turned and darted through the door, his wails echoing down the hall.

Red sighed happily. "Young love," he murmured, nibbling Purple's antenna.

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**Note:** Remember, read till the end of the story, and this will all make sense. No, I have not turned to the dark side of ZADR and RAPR.


	3. Chapter 3

Something cool dripped down his forehead. A gentle hand was smoothing back his hair—it felt so good. The cool liquid trickled over his forehead, and a rivulet wound its way over his brow and into his eye. He squinted, lifting his hand to wipe it away. As he removed his hand, he froze. Peering anxiously down at him was Red's face, and his head was cradled in the Tallest's lap.

Dib yelped and sprang to his feet. "Wha… who… where… ow…" He rubbed his forehead, wincing.

Red grinned. "You were found unconscious at the end of the hall. I suppose you forgot the difference between a closed door and an open one?"

The boy gently moved his bruised nose around, grateful it wasn't broken. He had a vague memory of hitting something hard. He'd been running and screaming about something. He absently scratched his chest—and froze. He felt silk under his hand. Glancing down, he saw he was dressed in the most flamboyant, garish Irken outfit he'd ever seen. The top flamed with shades of orange, red, gold, and pink. The bottom was a vibrant clash of black, yellow, neon green, jagged blue, and a deep shade of violet that put Gaz's hair to shame. But that wasn't what disturbed him the most.

"I'M WEARING A SKIRT!"

"Actually, it's the traditional royal mating attire."

"I'M WEARING A SKIRT!"

"Hm… perhaps that's the earthen word for it, but here, it's called a _phlamka._"

"…!...!...!" Dib's outrage was swallowed up in humiliation. "Why am I wearing this skirt? Is it some sort of punishment for screaming?"

Red eyed him curiously. "No, it's for the forevermate ceremony, don't you remember?"

Dib stared at him, blank-faced. "Huh?"

Red grinned. "It doesn't matter, it's about to happen, and you have to be there on time. Quickly." He stood and herded Dib out of the room and down three different hallways, pushing him into a massive, lushly carpeted room. The tapestries and murals depicted various scenes in his life—and Zim figured prominently in most of them. He glanced around, taking in the couches, chairs, holovid-devices, bed, bizarre looking gadgetry, atmosphere controller—he froze, forcing himself to look back at the piece of furniture dominating the room.

Massive and intimidating, the bed was easily three times a king-sized mattress. The polished teakwood frame stretched to the ceiling and spilled down flowing red and black curtains. Dib realized that the entire room was color coordinated to cater to red and black—his and Zim's colors.

He opened his mouth to protest, or be sick, but before he could do either, Purple escorted Zim in.

Dressed in the same type of… what had that word been? _Phlamka_ that Dib was, Zim approached boldly, with a smile on his smug green face. His eyes flickered over the room, and he seemed to stand taller. "Excellent, these accommodations will do well for our purposes."

Dib fought to keep his throat from closing. "Our… purposes?"

Zim chuckled. "Please, stop playing the fool. You're embarrassing yourself."

His vision swam again, and he stumbled back. "C-can't we discuss this? I d-don't think I'm r-r-ready for this kind of comitt-itt-ment."

Red caught his arm. "Now smeet, we understand you're nervous, but this is tradition."

Purple's eyes glossed over. "My smeet… Dibbeh-le-kun… getting mated…"

Red seized Dib's hand and laid it on top of Zim's claw, trumpeting, "You two are now bound. Go have fun."

Dib blinked. "What? That's it? That's all? No pomp and ceremony?" Though part of him was relieved.

Purple smiled dreamily. "Oh there doesn't need to be any of that. We wouldn't want to keep you two apart that long." He waved, giggling behind his claws as Red towed him out. Dib realized his fate two seconds before the door slid shut. His mouth opened, then closed in an attempt to keep down the bile that clawed at the back of his throat. He raced over to the door and yanked at it, pulling and tugging. Locked.

A set of claws grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He was facing Zim, eye to eye. The Irken had a hungry look on his face, and his mouth pulled up in a smirk. "What are you waiting for? Let's have fun."

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A rough, wet cloth was jammed down on his forehead, and a female voice was grumbling as it was dragged back and forth across his face. Spluttering, he opened his eyes to see Gaz bending over him. A hateful glare glowed under heavy purple bangs. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, the wet rag still in her hand and dripping on the floor.

"When you get better, you do realize you're in for the beating of your life, right? I don't babysit sick people, especially my stupid older brother. How dare you get a fever! Dad threatened to take away my Gameslave if I didn't make sure to wipe your forehead every ten minutes." She paused her tirade a moment, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "But I might be persuaded to spare you the beating if you tell me about your dream."

Hoarsely, Dib croaked, "Dream? What dream?"

The scowl returned. "Don't play dumb. You were tossing and turning for three days, mumbling all sorts of things, mostly having to do with aliens and skirts. I want to know."

Dib took in the room at a glance. It was his room, with his Bigfoot posters and alien charts and glow-in-the-dark stars… it had been a dream! A nightmare, nothing more! He relaxed against the pillow, grinning widely. "You wouldn't believe—" he froze. In the doorway stood Zim, with a wrapped box. His eyes flew wide open and he pointed, silently screaming.

The alien looked at him oddly, as if he were exhibiting odd behavior. "Relax filthy beast of meat and hair, this is a get-well gift."

A gift? From _Zim?_ Maybe it hadn't been a dream… _Oh please let it have been a dream!_

Zim stomped into the room and deposited the rather heavy box onto Dib's chest. "There. Now get better and get well so I can destroy you already!" With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Shocked, Dib called, "Wait, Zim." The Irken paused, glancing back. "You… you don't want to mate, right?"

Zim's face twisted into a comical portrait of horror and revulsion. "You… disgusting… filthy…" He covered his mouth with his claws and ran from the room, the sounds of retching following his exit.

Dib laughed long and hard, as Gaz regarded him with raised eyebrows. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" She asked sardonically.

He shook his head, pushing the box aside. "Where do I start…"

**Note: **Told you it would make sense. Many thanks to Lord Slappy on DeviantArt for helping me brainstorm.


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